Tag: #heartache
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Sitting on the frosted curb,
Left with a sprinkle of premature December snow,
Whilst delicately seperating my festive mince pie,
Like breaking bread in church,
Preparing bite size portions,
In order to waste not,
And leave not,
A telling trail of crumbs and succulent fruit.
Tis Yuletide once more!
2017 has passed with the lightening speed of a Polaroid camera flash,
Had me Waltzing around the ballroom,
Frantically changing style,
The purposeful march of the Tango,
The military Quick Step,
The merriment of Jive,
Freestyle contemporary,
Dirty Meringue,
Repetative schottische,
The Rumba in my feet,
The Samba in my mind,
Picking up pace,
And then falling behind,
The manic Quick Step,
And monotonous Two Step,
Frozen in the Spotlight,
And dancing in the rain,
All in twelve months,
My very own,
“Marathon ’33” endurance test,
Bewildered at how I ended up in this wretched contest!?
Competing with my past,
Struggling in the present,
Unenthusiastic about the future,
Fatigue engulfing both my body and mind,
Whilst the other contendors race ahead,
Leaving me behind.
Finally,
I sit,
I notice that my bruised and swollen feet,
Pang in tune with the beat of my mirroring heart,
My exterior,
In this delicate moment,
Where I have stolen a moment,
To stop,
Paints a picture of a tired,
Yet recovering soul,
But let it fool you not,
As I am still stuck down the rabbit hole,
It is here when I decide whether I want to crawl out,
And I do,
Without a shadow of a doubt,
But tis a complicated process,
I cannot merely scream and shout,
Rely fully on others to get me out,
But your love,
Support,
Empathy,
Consideration,
Patience,
And understanding,
Would help the log fire of my being,
Not fully burn out,
Give me the motivation to get up,
And keep dancing it out,
Demanding change,
As I dance free of the chains,
That have held me captive this 2017.

Is it possible that the well known master of enforcing romantic and undeniable love, Cupid, had siblings with opposite traits? Born from Venus, his mother who represented love, beauty, desire and fertility, and his father Mars who represented war,weapons and battles. It seems clear who Cupid got his traits from, his mother. Should there have been another child, born to the same parents, could his/her traits be quite the opposite of Cupid? Spreading heartache rather then love? I think it possible, as such a curse has been bestowed upon many a people! Equal, if not more than those who have found love!

They say that Cupid and his bow and arrow,
Match make,
Connect,
And bestow love upon you and another!
Be it a blessing?
Or be it a curse?
The myths suggest that The phantom known as Cupid,
Did indeed exist and conquer love.
Be his arrow infused with natural and herbal remedies,
Much like those used by Native Americans.
Dipped into Titania’s fairy made potions from the forests.
Blessed by the ritual of blood from those sacrificed,
Like in the times of Egyptian worship and offering’s to God.
Leaving the targets absolutely spellbound,
Hit by love,
Straight in the heart!
And thus is Cupid’s job.
Please contemplate the inevitability of there being an opposite being.
Like there is a high and there is a low,
There is an up and there is a down,
Big and small,
Love and hate,
There is always an opposite,
Did Venus and Mars,
Another creature make?
A being with a dark side,
Like the grim reaper,
Waiting in the shadows for easy prey,
Good,
Loving,
And vulnerable hearts to break?
I have been hurt,
Abandoned,
And rejected,
Far to many times.
It cannot be bad luck,
Cannot be a coincidence.
Something other then I and my prey,
Must play a part in this dismay.
Perhaps voodoo,
Or the Devils art,
I seem destined for a broken heart.
Yet it is the core of my art.
Fairy-tale’s and Rom Com’s may not be for me,
But I do feel that poetry is my destiny.

My eyes wonder up to the sky,
Where Angle’s and spirits lie.
I know that you travel across land and sea,
But sparkle in the sky and so I can see,
I feel you in my heart and all around,
Even though you don’t make a sound,
I know that you are protecting me,
And together we shall always be.

Why is it that I am consumed with misery and destined for misfortune? A rotten egg, the runt of the litter, I was dealt the hand of disappointment. No matter which direction that I take, all rotes are filled with poison. Given an enormous heart, full of love, crushed and never to be loved in return. I repel all potential suiters. From family to friends and lovers, deserted by all and destined for a life alone. There is no remedy. My heart was built to love, but cursed, I shall never receive it. My heart, like a machine propels, searches and targets those to love but unsuccessful, self combusts. Crushed. I feel the heavy pangs in my chest. How cruel is natures path? To allow me to love so deeply and desire almost desperately, yet nothing in return. People don’t understand. How could they, if they don’t know this pain. I wish it upon anyone. I do not wish an explanation upon them, why burden them with my woes? I was born Alone and alone I shall die. Smothered with rejection from my very first day. My love like an infection. I pledge just to love and be loved in return but receive nothing but cold isolation. As to why, I shall never know. Banished to the outskirts of society. Out of sight, out of mind. They forget me, whilst all I do is think of them. Driven to madness, I slowly fade away. Unloved, without partner nor child, just a void of unhappiness. Wither, wither, I die alone.

My support worker took me to buy an outfit for my Grandad and Cousins funeral today. Low self esteem and high anxiety accompanied me today like any other, but trying to be brave, I subconsciously suppressed it, until now. It’s 3.30 in the morning and although trying to distract myself with netflix’s finest, my heart is beating overtime and the practicalities of today are sinking in. The funeral is nigh and I am not prepared to say goodbye. I don’t want to say goodbye at all. I don’t understand half of the feelings that I am feeling. I am trying my best to hold it together for my loved ones and aware that I appear to be coping and taking it all in my stride but appearances can be extremely deceiving.

And so you pushed and twisted and turned,
Turned and twisted and pushed,
The silver blade within her,
You plunged it into her heart.
Disguised under your invisible cloak,
You had full control of her.
You manipulated each move that she made,
Each thought that she had.
Under your restraint,
Fueled with your toxic venom.
Running like an engine,
No longer herself.
Just a corpse now,
The battered down woman which you vowed to love.

Hello!
Are you me?
Or are you a stranger simply impersonating me?
Are you real?
Surely I couldn’t conjure up something/someone so evil?
So dangerous?
So bad for me?
Why can’t I permenantly shut you down?
At least lessen the noise?
I glimpse and grab hold of seconds of silence and almost remember feeling peace.
I obey your orders,
Craving some release.
I can barely remember life without you.
Life without this pain and misery.
The sadder that I am,
The stronger you seem to become.
There are theories about where this self hate springs from,
But we cannot confirm where you,
The parasite,
Sprang from.
Overwhelmed and overcome,
The weaker that I become,
Fuels your power to possess me.

When you are a baby they sing sweet stories full of melody, happy tunes, your comfort providing sweet lullaby.
When you are a child they read fantastical stories, full of magic and wonder, dream inspiring fairy tales.
A little older, you develop a taste, now clued up, the stories that you read triger intrigue and curiosity, more knowledgeable and worldly the magic begins to fade.
At a more mature age, it clicks, things fall into place, your eyes open to the sadness in the world, you no longer believe in the magic, the news connects you to a world of woe and sorrow.The magic has gone.
Where’s the Gold?
Where’s the Prince?
Where’s the happy ever after?
The magic has gone.
The stories were wrong.
Reality strikes and you realise that the tales in fairy tales and lullaby’s are filled with nothing but deceit and fabrication.
Then the forever flowing world takes you full circle.
When you are with child, a child of innocence, you do not want to taint them with the sorrows of the world.
The lullaby’s and fairy tales resurfice.
It’s where all hope springs from.
Perhaps they are all lies, but until they recognise and the secrets unfoldunfold, we all deserve a bit of magic when we are young!

Listen to 1st part of Dear Daddy Walters no filter, trying to play uke at Inspired by Pink, “Dear Mr President” by jadebl3 #np on #SoundCloud

I have tried to extend my love of writing and fuse it with music a few times now but this time I was inspired to twist and adapt lyrics that were already in a song, I ripped up, tore apart an already incredibly moving script of heartfelt words and added a bit of personal woe to recreate a song that is not to old but slightly forgotten. The link is an early edition, sneak preview. I intend to get input off a group of musicians very dear to me and tear it up in the studio and so keep an ear out xxx